


Tears of Fear

by Peter_Rabbit



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Burns, Captivity, Crying Morality | Patton Sanders, Dehumanization, Food, Guns, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kidnapping, Logic | Logan Sanders Being an Asshole, Mad Scientist Logic | Logan Sanders, Minor Injuries, Monophobia, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Panic Attacks, Tears of Fear, Unsympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unsympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Werewolf Morality | Patton Sanders, refering to a person as an it, unethical research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peter_Rabbit/pseuds/Peter_Rabbit
Summary: After years of doing research on lycanthropes by himself with the piles of money his late parents had left him, Logan is finally able to move on to the next step. With the help of a (fairly untrustworthy) bounty hunter he acquires a live specimen to observe, question and study.He was not expecting it to cry so much.
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082720
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	Tears of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Remus has someone aim a gun at Patton and Logan carries a gun and threatens to shoot Patton with it.  
> Logan excessively and without stop dehumanizes and refers to Patton as an "it" and "the specimen".  
> Patton panics when left alone and in his attempts to escape hurts himself.

Logan watched the bounty hunter’s colleagues carelessly unload the wooden crate from their van and drop it on the pavement of his drive. It took four men to get it out and he would have to bring out some of his own staff to take and unload its contents into its new home. 

The bounty hunter, some lowlife that was barely qualified for the job he had given him, stood next to him. He cleared his throat and Logan could feel his small amount of excitement for his new project being replaced with dread at the coming conversation. He looked over, not even bothering to raise an eyebrow, as he wasn’t interested in what the Duke was about to say, “This fella gave us a bit of a run, we were chasing him all through the swamps of Florida, nearly lost him a few times. I think a few extra Ks should be in order for the pain he put us through.”

“It’s not my problem you’re incompetent,” Logan replied, looking back to the crate, “You’re lucky I don’t charge you for being late. I gave you a month and yet it still took you another two weeks to bring it to me. You’re not getting another penny from me, Duke, you’re lucky I’m paying you at all.”

The Duke snarled and whistled to one of his colleagues, “Shoot the little bitch on my command.” The man pulled a gun from his belt and aimed it at the crate, approximately where his purchase’s head was. The Duke loomed next to him, “Now, mister smart ass, I suggest you add another ten thousand to my pay or you’re not getting what you asked for, and I’m not gonna leave it pretty enough for you to stuff.”

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked up at the Duke, “If you shoot it I simply won’t pay you and find someone far smarter than you to acquire another for me. You’ll do nothing but waste both of our time. Now have him put the gun down and I’ll give you your payment now, in cash no less.”

They stood there in an impromptu staring contest for a minute. He could tell the Duke was looking for a sign of weakness, a sign he wouldn’t find, especially not in his eyes of all places. The Duke’s gaze hardened into something murderous; Logan didn’t flinch, even as he snapped his fingers to get his colleagues’ attention again, “All of you, back in the van.”

The men all scurried away from the box and into the van, the heavy black doors shutting with thuds. He didn’t even have to look over to one of his employees as he held open his hand, he heard the quick footsteps as one of them walked down the stairs from his front door and the handle of a leather briefcase was set in his hand. He shoved it into the Duke’s chest. “Thank you for the business. I won’t be in contact again and I expect the same courteous from you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the Duke mumbled and took the case, walking down a few steps before pausing, “If you end up killing him can you send me a tooth? I wanna add it to my collection.”

Logan didn’t answer him and after a minute the bounty hunter shrugged and climbed into the passenger side seat of his van. He sincerely hoped he never saw the man again, and he certainly was not going to send him any piece of his specimen, even if it did end up dying.

He went back into his home as his service staff took care of the wooden crate, taking it to it’s new home. The old servant’s quarters on the grounds had been decommissioned years ago and replaced with an extension to the mansion itself, so he spent a small fortune having the underground cellars stripped and rebuilt for its new purpose. None of his staff had seen inside the rebuilt quarters and not one of them ever would. They were to simply attach the wooden crate to a small door before opening the side of the crate so the contents could move into its new home without anyone catching a glimpse of what it was.

If the Duke had followed his instructions his purchase wouldn’t awake for a while longer, though considering the Duke that was unlikely. It would probably wake sooner or later then he had planned, he hoped sooner as he wished to start observing it as soon as possible, even if it was a small risk that his staff would hear what was inside. He walked into his room to start preparing himself; he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it across a chair next to his mirror as he took in his reflection.

His hair was sleeked back and his thin-framed glasses sat on his pale, pointed nose hiding dark eyes. He wore a fine black suit that was expertly tailored. Every bit of him was fine tuned to make him express what he wanted. Image was everything as they say, and he strived to look intimidating and in control, as that was just what he was. 

He opened the drawer to his dresser and pulled out an empty gun holster and attached it to his belt. Then he pulled out the black handgun. He released the magazine and checked the contents, all six custom silver bullets sat neatly within. He clicked the magazine back in, double checked the safety was on, and slipped it into his holster.

He didn’t bother pulling his suit jacket back on as he left his room and stepped quickly down the stairs. His first stop was the kitchen where he grabbed the meal that he had the kitchen staff prepare. The kitchen staff knew nothing of the purchase he made, unlike the service staff, and while he expected some gossip between the two he hoped the sudden request for two plates for every meal would not be connected with his purchase in the old staff quarters for a while. It was no trouble if questions started arising, he would simply terminate his staff and hire new ones. The local news had long since grown tired of reporting about the reclusive young man that inherited old money from his parents and decided to do nothing interesting with it, they wouldn’t bother with another false investigation of his ordeals even if he has suddenly done something interesting and secretive, so there was no worry of someone attempting to poke in his business for a quick headline. 

Upon his specific requests the meal was fairly simple today, a rare steak with a side of cooked potatoes and broccoli. It is a meal designed to have the least likely things his specimen could potentially be allergic to and also would benefit from most in diet and minerals. He kept it in a covered tray as he walked it out the house through the back door.

The cellar wasn’t far from the house, and he was soon descending the damp stone stairs. He unlocked the first door, made of thick wooden and held with a chain and padlock, and walked through the hallway until the end. He unlocked the second door, made of reinforced iron and only opened with his thumb print.

This led to the first observation room.

A one-way mirror hid the observation room from the specimen. It had a panel of controls for the temperature, the lights, the cameras, and a few other things set in the room. For now he kept the temperature at a comfortable twenty degrees celsius, the lights at max to minimize the specimen’s possible view into the observation room, and all the cameras were recording, as he wants the most unbiased observation of the specimen before he introduces himself. 

The specimen had yet to leave the crate, though it did look to be stirring. He set the tray down on a table and sat down at the desk sitting in front of the mirror to make as many notes as possible. He pulled from the desk drawer a thick leather journal and started taking notes on the time and his experiences with the Duke, as well making observations of the specimen from what he could see. 

It was several more minutes before the specimen was able to awkwardly crawl out of the crate that was much too small to maneuver around in, though the speed of which it came out he contributed to the dose of drugs he requested it be under so it would not be able to cause alarm among the staff if it tried calling out for help or something else of the sort. The specimen was slower to its feet, once it was fully out of the crate Logan pressed a button on the controls and a steel door blocked off the small opening to the crate, fully locking the specimen in the room. 

It looked to be a caucasian male, likely in it’s late twenties, with unorderly red curls and splattering of freckles over every visible section of skin. It was shorter with a heavier frame, and it’s clothes were a bit big on him, a bright blue polo and beige khakis, which were packed in dirt, likely from the Duke chasing him around the wilderness if he was to be believed (so far evidence was in his favor but Logan did not trust the bounty hunter in the slightest). 

The specimen was slowly growing more awareness and thus his evident distress at his new surroundings was growing as well. The room was scarcely furnished, for now, as to minimize distractions. A full sized bed was set in one corner with the sheets folded at the end to be made, and a dresser that was currently empty except for several pairs of clean socks and underwear, and a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt in several different sizes. He would remove the extras once he knew the specimen’s size and would then fill the dresser properly. There was a small gas stove and icebox, along with small storage space in the farthest corner, all completely empty as he would bring food and ingredients down later during times he would be unable to bring the specimen food himself. He also placed a small stack of books on the dresser, ones that were easily replaceable copies of some of his favorite mysteries. He wasn’t so cruel to leave the thing with no way to entertain itself.

There were two doors to it’s left, one that was the usual wood one you would find in any home, that led to a bathroom, and the other was thick iron that led to a reinforced enclosure, this was for the specimen to enter during it’s nights of change, it was sparse right now, but upon questioning the specimen he’d get things to fill it that would keep it as docile as possible during those changes. 

Both room and enclosure were viewable by the one-way glass and were separated from the glass by lengths of silver bars. He wasn’t the happiest about the obscured vision from the bars, but this was the best way to watch undetected without the specimen attempting to break the glass and get out. 

“Hello?” The specimen spoke for the first time. Logan didn’t bother to answer as he began taking notes of the specimen. Its eyes shifted around nervously, “Is- Is anyone there? I don’t know what’s going on and it would be really nice if someone could tell me what’s happening.”

The specimen walked up to the bars with slow steps, glancing around the mirror, likely looking for an exit. It went to touch the bars but the moment it’s skin grazed the pure silver it leaped back. Logan could easily make out the pure shock and terror on its face, as it glanced over the bars and then frantically looked around the room. He wrote down each action in a time table, marked by the minute

It looked around and spotted one of the more visible cameras fixed on the glass wall. “Hello?” It asked again, this time directed towards the camera. 

Logan glanced at the monitor displacing that camera’s specific feed and after a moment zoomed in slightly on the specimen’s face, those in captivity tended to speak to cameras like they were people in hope to reach the person behind them. It would be beneficial to catch all the specimen’s behavior now, before interacting, it would change his approach if it pleaded or threatened him. 

He vaguely wondered if perhaps he should have set up an observation for a few days before an interaction, but as of now the only way to feed the specimen was to interact with him, so he would just have to make note of that as something to try for when he was to obtain another specimen. 

The specimen seemed to pick up on the small change in the camera and it’s expression shifted to shock, then relief, then worry. It seemed very open in it’s emotions, that would be very beneficial during his research.

“Are you the man that- that was chasing me?” It asked, more timid than he would think someone addressing (who they thought to be) the Duke would be. “If you are- um- can you tell me what you want? When I fell in that net trap I kind of thought that was going to be it, you know? You don’t seem like the catch and release kind of guy… Not that you released me…”

It paused to look around the room once again, it’s expression dropping to a panic. It looked back up at the camera, and he could see on the feed a shine in its eyes. It was going to cry. “Look, Mister Hunter, sir, I’d make a terrible pet or- or trophy or- whatever this is. I’m not very interesting and I’m not too terribly tough either. I’m more cat than dog with how easily scared I am… you know- cause- cause I’m a scaredy cat.” It gave a lackluster laugh before sniffling. He hoped that it didn’t continue any more attempts at humor. 

“There are lots of things I’m scared of, spiders are number one an- and being by myself is second,” it said as it glanced around nervously. Logan merely made a note of the spiders, it was a common enough irrational fear, though he may want to do some tests with spiders to see more of its fear responses. 

It looked back to the camera and Logan could see a few tears slipping. His specimen was very much the emotional type it seemed. “Are you listening? Can you hear me?” it asked to the camera. 

He stopped watching the monitor and went back to watching through the glass to get a good view of the rest of the specimen’s body language. There was shaking in the shoulders, hands and knees, and it's breathing was fast paced. If it weren’t for the fact it continued to make eye contact with the camera it would be very similar to the behavior of a frightened omega wolf. Omegas were usually determined by the pack and pushed into their submissive role which drew the question if his specimen had been separated from a pack or if it was naturally this submissive. He will have to do more research on wolf dynamics and omegas later, but as of now he will make a note of it and continue. 

“Please- Please, if you can hear me please come talk to me. Talk to me like a person. Please, I don’t want to be alone in here! Please, don’t leave me alone!” It shouted.

Logan frowned, while it wishing for companionship would certainly help it bond with him, it also meant that without proper socialization his specimen would become increasingly depressed over time. He’d have to invest in an animal companion… or perhaps acquiring a second specimen to cohabitate sooner than planned.

Either would have to come later after further research and study. For now the specimen’s distress was growing farther than he wanted to handle and the only viable next step would be to introduce himself and give it it’s dinner. He zoomed out the camera to its standard position, closed the leather book, pocketed it, and grabbed the now cold steak and sides. Eventually he’d bring the food right away, but these first few days were more about observation.

He unlocked the door that was set in the glass wall and pushed it open. Immediately the sobs quieted down and were replaced with soft hiccups.

“I brought you dinner,” he said, electing to ignore the obvious emotions rather than give comfort. 

“Um.. Thank you,” the specimen said, watching him curiously, “My name is Patton, what’s yours?”

Logan slid the tray through a little opening that had just a big enough of a platform for the tray to rest without tipping. He was a bit surprised at the sudden change of intensity, it was clear this creature thrived off contact; as long as someone was present it was calm.

“My name is Logan,” He replied, standing back.

The specimen, Patton, smiled slightly and took the tray. It lifted the lid of the tray slightly to peek inside, its eyes widening at the contents. It promptly sat down on the floor and grabbed the fork to shove a few pieces of the potatoes in its mouth. After it had swallowed a few bites and looked up at Logan with a grin, “It’s been forever since I’ve had a proper meal, let alone anything this good.”

“I believe that to be a hyperbole, but do try to avoid figurative language from here on out. I have some questions for you about lycanthropes and I’d like them answered truthfully. Do not lie as I plan to follow up on each of my questions with experiments and observations,” He said, getting to the point. Patton was in good spirits and there was no telling how long that would last. 

It only gave him a confused look, “I mean, I’ll try, but I don’t know what a lycanthrope is.”

He became worried for a second that he had been ripped off before remembering that his specimen was from Florida, “A lycanthrope is the scientific word for werewolf. You know lots about being a werewolf, I'm sure.”

“Oh! Yes, I do!” It answered proudly; then it seemed to have realized what it said, “I mean- If werewolves were real and I was one, that is.” 

“I said not to lie to me.”

“Sorry,” it replied, honestly sounding a bit sheepish, rubbing the back of it's neck, “Why do you want to know about werewolves?”

“Curiosity mostly, werewolves are a phenomenon that was well known in ancient Greece but has since fallen into the land of fiction despite the multitude of sightings every year. It has been a topic that has fascinated me since I was a child. I spent most of my school years tucked away in my library during my free time reading supernatural fantasies centered around lycanthropes and wolf-men. Speaking to and observing a real lycanthrope will finally clear up the myths from facts, something I have been looking forward to for many months now since I've started this particular research project” He answered.

“That’s kind of cute, studying all about someone and getting excited about meeting them,” It chuckled, “Though maybe we can have a conversation that’s _not_ between a potentially lethal row of bars?”

“Will the silver kill you by being in the same room as you?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then there is no reason to remove the bars, you pose a threat to me, not only a supernatural being but also as a creature in distress. You could attack me and I’d rather not shoot you as it took too much time and money to get you here and I’d rather not repeat the process with another specimen,” He said. Patton looked very upset by the end of that statement, though he could not imagine anyone of sound mind still being cheerful after being told they had to stay in place or be shot.

It didn’t say anything for several seconds and Logan pulled out his leather journal to start the interview part of his research.

“So, if I answer your questions you’ll leave the others alone?” Patton asked before he could ask his own questions. 

He considered the merit of telling a falsehood, as it would likely make his specimen more agreeable in answering the questions, however it would also create a more negative reaction when the truth did come out. Truth it was: “No. I plan on acquiring more specimens in the future after a certain point. Likely two more, one at a time, if not more. I hope to simulate a pack forming and see if it follows similar dynamics as wolf packs. I already have some theories from the observations I already made today.”

For the first time he could see anger on Patton’s face, “Then I’m not going to tell you anything. We’re not just- just some dogs for you to study. We’re people with lives and if you just plan on hurting someone else later then we have nothing to talk about.”

Logan considered arguing with it, but got a better idea. He just had to use it’s evident distress at being along to his advantage, “Alright, if that is how you feel.” He pocketed his book away and headed towards the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” It asked, nearly whining. 

Logan almost rolled his eyes at how easy it was, “I can not gain anything out of today’s interaction so I will be going. Goodbye.”

As the door closed, he could hear Patton shouting at him. He was quick to sit back down at the desk and put his notebook down to make more observations. It was standing as close as it dared to the silver bars, an angry expression barely hiding the intense fear it was displaying in its body language. The waterworks were starting again; slow, but growing in quantity. 

These were extreme differences between being alone and having company, even when said company was its captor. Even if it had tried to negotiate it’s life for the safety of others it likely wouldn’t have been able to last that long in the first place without additional company.

He suspected he would only have to offer an animal companion as an incentive to get it to start answering questions. Then it’s bond could be used to gain even more cooperation later. Tomorrow morning he’d ask it what animal it would prefer to room with and what accommodations it would like to be able to take care of it.

The calls for him continued for a half hour, every now and then stopping for Patton to pace the length of the bars or stare intently at the camera. It then spent the next hour frantically searching each corner and space for an escape, which Logan closely monitored and recorded to make sure that it didn’t find anything he or the construction crew had missed. 

The last thing it attempted actually managed to set Logan on edge and he paused his note taking to watch warily as the specimen slammed it’s body into the silver bars several times. It wasn’t until he noticed the burn marks on it’s face that he scrambled for the microphone to urge him to stop, but the specimen collapsed before he could press the broadcast button. 

He frowned, the specimen was back to crying and asking him to come back, it wasn’t even for release, just for his presence. It’s monophobia was greater then he had ever thought would be present and would have to be dealt with properly. Until then he made sure each camera was recording and closed the notebook. He’d retire for the rest of the night and deal with the specimen’s anxieties in the morning. Besides, the first night with a new pet was always the hardest, as he heard.


End file.
